The Tactician
by IllusionaryNosebleed
Summary: After months of recovery from a risky but revolutionary experiment, a Crimson Blade Veteran returns to his duty. However, he did not expect to be given a new responsibility to watch over a new group of rookies. New adventures await as the veteran and the rookies open up to each other... Main OC.
1. Chapter 1 - Induction

In a dark room, three robed men prepared to change the course of warfare with an experiment.

One of them sat at a wooden desk acting as the recorder. The other two stood face to face in front of the desk.

One of the two reached inside his robe and pulled out a flask filled with glowing red liquid. It sloshed around as the other man stared at it with dead eyes.

"Brynn, it is time to start," rasped a voice from the person at the desk. A sigh, complete with months of research, enveloped the red flask experiment.

"Here is the prototype," said Brynn as he shook it towards him.

The volunteer promptly stripped his robe down. Under a reddened bandage was a large gash straight across the volunteer's chest. It could lurch any average man into weakness.

A shaky hand glided to the neck of the flask.

"Are you sure you wish to do this? We do not know how this will affect you…and it is certainly not too late to stop," said Brynn, averting his eyes.

The recorder glared at Brynn. He would not allow progress to be stopped by a whim.

The other man gazed into the red liquid. He imagined it being spilled into his hands. Hands colored with something so strikingly similar to blood.

"I will take it. I do not want you to risk losing anyone else, especially not the Crimson Blade mercenaries." That proud declaration shook Brynn down to the core. To be so brave in the face of possible death, Brynn never questioned the will of a Crimson Blade mercenary. Especially this one.

"Very well. You may proceed," replied Brynn before joining the recorder by his side.

Before the undertaking began, the man stripped off his bloody bandages, letting the wound gush out blood with impunity. His hands quaked before they were calmed in an exhalation of calmness and endurance. He raised the flask to his lips and drank until there was no more.

Brynn held his breath. His research dive into the life erg crystal essence had culminated into the red flask. The potion in theory was supposed to heal all physical injuries possible.

Being subject to a myriad amount of experiments by many magicians, the erg crystals collected a mystical essence inside that revolutionized the arts of alchemy. While they benefited magicians, none of it could be applied against the Fomors or for the benefit of the common humanity, much less a soldier. Anyone who mishandled the powerful erg crystals could be subject to mana poisoning, and would require a medicine of many exotic components.

That was until today; once the formula became perfected with no side effects, the casualties suffered could be reduced to an all-time low. The humans would stand a better chance against the battle-hardened Fomors led by the wise Shakarr.

And for Brynn, it would make it easier to protect the Oracle. He steeled himself, drawing his eyes to the volunteer once more.

The flask shattered to the floor.

The volunteer convulsed as if he was being possessed.

Coughs of blood purged through the air.

His entire vocabulary reduced to hacking and choking.

He writhed. Blurry vision set in. Unbridled pain attacked his insides.

The volunteer fell to his knees. He could lose consciousness.

But his will remained. He fought to keep his chest in clear view of the two researchers.

The researcher's hand glided through the paper. His eyes focused on the glowing red and white energies surrounding the wound.

The energies would sew up the wound as if skin regained its ground over muscle.

Then, the skin and muscle would split open like it never happened.

All in a matter of seconds.

Brynn watched with horror. Dying by this had to be worse than the most sadistic torture device possible. Being healed and then be ripped apart in a continuous cycle.

Any human body did not deserve to go under this duress.

Brynn readied a blue orb, but the researcher held him back with a hand.

The red and white energies expanded outwards in a flash before the volunteer collapsed to the ground on his stomach.

"Be careful Brynn, the formula still has a chance of a mana explosion," warned the recorder.

Brynn nodded before he approached the tester. He flipped him over, hunting for the wound on his chest. Not even a scar was present.

Brynn felt for his pulse, detecting a steady beat. He nodded back to the recorder. "It was a success."

"Good. With this, we can reduce the number of casualties among mercenaries once we remove any further impurities from the formula."

"What about him?" Brynn pointed to the unconscious one, knowing that the man came in here with a death wish.

"Inspect him. Check for symptoms. I want to see if this formula has any long-lasting effects."

* * *

4 months later.

"Thank you for helping me with these spears, Shren." A young, red-haired woman in a Crimson Blade tunic placed a set of sharpened spears one by one on a rack. A young man sat on a nearby wooden table filled with paper stacks and shields.

"Don't get tired on me, Ceara," joked Shren. Ceara giggled to herself as she looked at Shren with a careful eye.

"How are you not worn out yet? Everything has been happening so fast," sighed Ceara as she swiped a document beside Shren's thigh and moved her eyes. "Ever since the bell tower incident, rookies as talented as her began coming in."

As news of Wenshardt spread across the land, gifted warriors from afar began coming into the town of Colhen to take up arms against the Fomors. Fiona, Lann, Evie, and Karok were those very warriors so far. Ceara, a Crimson Blade veteran who oversaw the recruitment, kept an eye on them as if they were valuable armor pieces with growing fatigue.

"You sound jealous, Ceara" said Shren, having heard of Fiona's fearlessness at the bell tower.

"If you mean Fiona, she still has much to learn from me…yet I feel like I hide behind my shield more than she does," joked Ceara, making Shren chuckle.

"I wouldn't call it hiding. I call it not dying," joked back Shren, making Ceara giggle even more.

"And now it looks like you changed. You used to brood all the time."

"I'm not brooding now, so is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Your first day back and you're still asking for more quests? I think that makes you one of them now" said Ceara as she smiled coyly. "I think I have two left for you in that case."

"Bring them on," taunted Shren.

"You asked for it. I'm warning you," laughed Ceara. "First, deliver these letters to the four talented rookies."

Ceara walked to the other side of the table, grabbed a set of envelopes, and handed them to Shren. "Their names are on the letters and they should be at the inn."

"Lann, Fiona, Evie, and…Karok?" asked Shren.

"You came from the Inn, right?"

Shren nodded, prompting Ceara to whistle in amazement.

"I think that 'eye' of yours has waned since your stay at the inn," remarked Ceara.

"My eye says it hasn't noticed anyone out of the ordinary when I walked here," rebuked Shren.

"Tieve must be asking him to deliver pancakes again. It's very hard to miss him."

"Thanks for that. What's the other task?"

"Report back here in the outpost tomorrow. Aodhan, Marrec, and I have planned something special for you to do," answered Ceara, causing Shren to raise his eyebrows.

"Any hints?"

"None. Just be here and we will tell you everything."

Shren pouted, causing Ceara to giggle again. "Oh you're brooding again! You're going to be fine. It won't kill you."

"All right Ceara, whatever you say" replied Shren as he walked to the door. "I'm going to go deliver these letters. One more thing…"

A long pause ensued as Shren held onto the doorknob. Ceara knew what Shren wanted to say as soon as she saw him contemplate in conflict.

"Don't worry, Shren. She's still out there."

* * *

Shren had never met any of the rookies he was supposed to deliver to. If they came from far-away lands, meeting one should have been easy with their exotic clothing. That delusion was crushed when Shren almost passed by Lann outside the Mercenary Outpost.

"_A fairly normal-looking mercenary,_" thought Shren. "_Twin Swords? Only Marrec and Gallagher had mastered that dangerous art._"

When Shren introduced himself to Lann and gave him his letter, he only received a paltry nod with not even a glance of eye contact. Rather, Lann only acknowledged Ceara as he looked past Shren and walked towards her. Shren wanted to see a bright side to this cold mercenary, so he focused his ears to find out what he was so intent on.

Everyone in Colhen, including Shren, eyed Lann leaving the outpost with a very high stack of skill books. Some would say he was eager to learn everything, but only Shren and Ceara had the satisfaction of seeing Lann grimace upon having to practice a specific skill, Fishing.

After petting the dog Black Tornado III, Shren strode into the Inn.

An array of plated, steaming hot pancakes with a slightly melted slice of butter on top filled the atmosphere of the inn. This would normally be a sign of a good home, were it not for the giant and the petite blonde woman.

Shren stood awestruck as if Shakarr was standing before him telling him to brush his teeth. "_Ceara was right._"

"Hello Shren, have you and Karok met before?" asked Tieve as she handed a plate to Karok.

"I..uh…haven't," answered Shren as he felt Karok stare down at him. A stilted smile was all he could muster.

Never had the wooden floor in the Inn creaked so loudly as Karok treaded towards Shren. Both maintained eye contact as Shren felt like he could be crushed by Karok's shadow at any moment. Tieve watched the two with an easy-going smile.

"Would you like some pancakes?"

Shren could not comprehend the sonic boom that came out of Karok's mouth at first. He had been staring up at him so much that he forgotten he was wearing a Crimson Blade tunic.

"Oh yes, thank you." He took the pancakes in a shudder. The giant exhaled deeply, as Shren could feel the hot air pouring over his presence.

"Are you new?" asked Karok.

"Oh uh umm, I am not. I became a mercenary at the same time as Ceara," stammered out Shren.

Seemingly knowing this forced conversation would continue, Karok made a deep nod to him. He made sure his head was bent down longer than normal before he stopped and picked up another batch of pancakes from Tieve. He left the inn crouching.

Shren still stood in the same place as Tieve walked over to him and asked, "Would you like another plate?"

"Y-yes please," replied Shren as he walked over to a nearby table and sat down. The pancakes he held soon became massacred with his fork. A starving madman held no candle to the way Shren ate.

Tieve showed a concerned expression as she handed another plate to Shren. "Please don't be so afraid of Karok. He's a sweet man."

Shren didn't reply until he finished his first plate. He exhaled like all of his burdens were lifted. Tieve had known this ever since his long stay at the Inn.

As Shren stabbed his next batch of pancakes, he said, "I'm sorry. I just never seen a giant like him before. I felt like he could crush me….oh no."

"What's wrong?" asked Tieve.

"I forgot to give him this letter," said Shren. "Can you give it to him for me?"

Shren handed the envelope to Tieve as he rushed through his second batch.

Shren asked, "Do you know where I can find Evie and Fiona?"

Tieve could only look with a worried smile as she answered.

* * *

Shren leaned on a nearby wall after knocking on a wooden door. He had never been to the Inn's basement; much less know that a mercenary with a penchant for alchemy experiments and magical practice would reside below the inn. Evie had kept herself quiet during her stay.

"_From what I heard, she's our youngest,_" thought Shren. A mercenary so young would be a prime target for Gallagher to bully. Shren ruminated on this as the door opened.

Alas, this was Shren's first experience with the magician's skill, for he met no one but a staircase descending into a stonewalled room.

"Come in," sang a spritely voice from below. Clinks of vials, a potion bubbling, and humming from the youngest magician in town were heard as Shren walked down.

Evie manned a messy alchemy workstation against a wall; amongst a sea of disorganized papers on the desk was a miniature wooden duck, acting as a paperweight.

A bed with a bronze lamp was up against the opposite wall. Between the two pieces of furniture was a large clearing of stone floor.

Evie could not bear to take her eyes off of the red bubbling potion as she threw a quick glance at Shren before looking back.

Shren stayed silent, not wanting to disturb her as his eyes observed Evie from top to bottom. He noted that Evie had quite an adult figure despite being so young; an instant 10 out of 10 on the Gallagher approval scale.

"_And yet, she's another Alchemist like that Brynn," _thought Shren, as the red potion leered back at him.

"Do you wish something from me?" asked Evie, staying fixated on the potion.

"Yes. I have a letter for you from the Mercenary Outpost" replied Shren.

Evie pointed towards her bed with her eyes still. A lone flame flickered to life in the wick-less bronze lamp. "Please place it on the bed."

As Shren walked over to the bed, Evie tapped her fingers, tapped her feet, and glanced all around the room. The virtue of waiting seemed to be her very enemy. She whipped her weary eyes back to the potion after staring at Shren a little longer than needed.

A wave of her hand sent a floating pen and paper to Evie. After another quick glance at Shren again, she inscribed, "Ask the recovered mercenary."

* * *

With his task done, Shren had one letter left. A letter addressed to the mysterious warrior who slain the former guardian of Colhen many times her size.

Shren would hear from Tieve that she was the most admired mercenary in Colhen. With her bravery proven in single-handedly protecting the town with her shield, her reputation was deserved. Shren looked forward to meeting this mercenary the most.

Before Shren climbed the staircase, he heard hasty footsteps above the basement. Orders rang out. Swords were drawn. Loud breaths were heard.

There were even blasts of gunpowder, accompanied by small tremors.

Shren knew this chaotic state too well. It was the very reason why he came to Colhen. He came to one conclusion.

Colhen was under attack.


	2. Chapter 2 - Blast

"Get the people to the Temple! Hurry!"

Shren heard a familiar voice as he ran out of the inn with Evie right behind him.

Villagers rushed out of their homes, escaping death as cannonballs crashed into the buildings from the sky.

A single Crimson Blade bravely stood in the center of Colhen. Wherever he pointed, the mercenaries followed obediently.

"Shren! You and Evie get to the General Store and get the people to the Temple! Meet back here after!" ordered the Crimson Blade.

Shren saluted back with his hand against his chest. "I'll be back shortly, Captain Aodhan."

The captain went back to yelling names and directing them. A risky task, but it was needed in a situation like this.

Just as Shren turned to face Evie, a cannonball slammed the ground between them.

The impact knocked Shren backwards into the ground, kicking up dust that rivaled a sandstorm around the two.

Shren sat in shock for a few moments before he collected himself. His eyes scanned around for Evie, but the dust was too thick.

He forced his body to stand before he staggered through the dust. His sense of balance tiptoed back to him step by step. The dust had begun to clear as well.

Soon, his feet came to a halt.

She had been knocked against a wooden post.

Legs spread out. Shoulders slouched. Her head bent to the side with her long, light brown hair sprinkled with dust. And her wide eyes staring blankly at Shren.

While Shren's mind had fully recovered, Evie's had dived into a deep chasm.

"Evie!" Shren crouched and shook her shoulders. Not a reaction.

A memory flashed in Shren's mind. He had to get her somewhere less chaotic.

"I guess I have no choice." Shren hefted Evie to over his shoulder and ran towards the General Store. He grimaced, realizing that even magicians could be heavy after months of lying around.

They reached the General Store. Shren propped Evie against a wall exposed to sunlight. He hoped the sun flashing on her face would speed up her recovery from darkness. Part of the roof had caved in thanks to a stray cannonball. The table that would contain the town's finest alcohol and Clodagh's 'creations' had stacks of disheveled lumber and straw instead.

Shren left her alone while he inspected the building for possible stragglers.

Evie's situation was unfortunate. All Crimson Blade mercenaries had the duty to defend when present. If she were still paralyzed, everyone would know.

Aodhan would deem Evie unfit to be a Crimson Blade if he saw her right now. Shren knew this from hearing him lash at a female mercenary he worked with in the past. She too froze up like Evie.

Shren hoped that she would snap back to reality by the time he was done searching.

* * *

"_They must have left earlier,_" thought Shren, as he wasn't able to find a soul.

It gave Shren a bit of a surprise. Earlier, he had found a pelt resembling a gnoll's head with arrows sticking out of it. Clodagh wasn't one to abandon her creative pursuits.

He walked back to where Evie was. A grin formed on his lips as he observed Evie standing with her eyes closed and her hands clasped together like she was meditating. Unlike that female mercenary, Evie seemed to be more aware of her condition.

"Hey," said Shren in front of her.

Evie opened her eyes and took a step back from Shren, her body tensed up as she pointed at him. Arcs of lightning danced along her pointed finger.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Shren, undaunted by the growing arcs.

Evie took her time as she scanned over Shren. Upon recognizing the Crimson Blade robe, she halted the arcs and relaxed.

"Did you bring me here?" Evie had asked this while averting her vision away from Shren's eyes to the side. She seemed embarrassed.

"I did. You didn't remember coming here, did you?" replied Shren.

Evie shook her head while still looking away. Her answer lined up with what Shren had seen from the female mercenary.

Part of his mind desired for him to ask for more similarities between the two. Unfortunately, time wasn't willing to let them chat. And she didn't seem too willing either to open up.

"I see. Well, it looks like everyone in the General Store has already left. Let's move to the center of town."

Shren turned his back and headed towards the door.

"Wait!" shouted Evie as she directed her eyes at his back. Shren's question seemed to leave a deep impression on her. Her mouth opened, about to ask a question. Only to be dispelled in the next second.

"Stay here if you are going to freeze up again." The sharpness of those words had frozen Evie in shock as she watched Shren leave. Her question had left unasked.

Evie bitterly smiled and looked down. Soon, she too went out of the General Store after gathering up the ashes of her confidence.

* * *

Every Crimson Blade in Colhen regrouped in the center of town save for one who kept watch over the docks from the entrance. They hadn't noticed Shren and Evie approaching from behind.

They faced a woman with a posture so sharp and armor so shiny that it made her an easy target for eye rolling and sneers. She too sneered to herself, as her eyes assessed over the rabble.

"So that's Gwynn," muttered Shren to himself. Tieve had told him of her arrival in Colhen while he was recovering. He didn't mind haughty soldiers, as long as they were capable.

"Now that we evacuated the villagers to Colhen, we must be ready to defend!"

It was a statement so obvious to the surrounding Crimson Blades that she might as well be whipping them with her tongue.

"Where is your garrison, Gwynn?" This mocking question made Gwynn grit her teeth. Marrec wasn't afraid of confronting those above him.

"I sent Ellis to ask for reinforcements, but I doubt they'll be here before the bandits have their swords at our necks," said Gwynn. Emphasizing her last words only resulted in eyes pointing with daggers.

"Isn't that perfect? After we're finished off, your garrison will swoop in and-"

"That's enough!" shouted Aodhan who stood by Gwynn, halting Marrec. His words brought every mercenary to full attention. Even the captain of the rabble seemed worthy enough for Gwynn to glance at him.

"You came from the docks. Report," ordered Aodhan as he pointed at a Crimson Blade.

"Yes, captain! A large ship is razing our boats," replied the Blade.

"Our ships?" Aodhan scratched his head. "Is it possible to see Rocheste from the docks?"

"Yes, sir."

Rocheste was a huge castle; the sight of its battlements would scare off any Fomor. There shouldn't be a smell of smoke within sight of the castle. Despite hating their royal counterparts, the Crimson Blades had relied on the fortress' dominating presence to operate unhalted.

Gwynn, losing part of her haughty stature, seemed to rack her mind as to why the Fomors would target a town like Colhen.

"Anything else?" asked Aodhan. The blade hesitated at his question.

Shren knew that an invaluable piece of information would soon come. His mind started grinding for a plan while he waited for the Blade to spill.

"They…they have guns. Not just cannons. Muskets and pistols too. My friend was shot down while trying to fight off the flames." The Crimson Blades balked from the report. Guns were their natural enemy as the typical attire was a robe with a single piece of armor.

This only made identifying the issue more confusing. Fomors were known to use handheld cannons, but muskets? Both Gwynn and the mercenaries knew that only humans were reported to use those guns, particularly pirates who went against the trend of crossbows. The rookies, especially Karok, were alarmed. The only ranged weapons they encountered in their missions were bows.

While the mercenaries talked amongst themselves, Shren remained silent. This revelation had no effect on him. He rubbed his slight stubble at his chin as his plan started to come together.

Aodhan remained calm and made eye contact with Shren, knowing his best skill from hearing a mix of reports and rumors. Soon, Shren gave an approving nod.

Aodhan loudly cleared his throat, bringing the mercenaries back to full attention.

"Well then, Gwynn," said Aodhan as he faced Gwynn. "If our campaign in Perilous Ruins hasn't convinced you enough, we shall demonstrate to you."

Gwynn raised her eyebrows at Aodhan's confidence. Although the campaign could not be completed without the help of the Crimson Blades, those gnolls were the equivalent of an untrained levy. The royal army forces sent there were only caught by mere surprises.

What can the Crimson Blades do against a group of well-trained marines?

Gwynn challenged Aodhan with a knowing stare. Aodhan then turned to face a mercenary. A mercenary known to bring favorable results.

"Shren!"

It was as if Aodhan declared a curse.

Worried eyes sprouted outwards in all directions before locking onto one location. Marrec stared with wide eyes. Some shared his same sentiment, some didn't care but were surprised by the fear their fellows showed.

A knowing dread had spread throughout the entire town. Hardly anyone knew he came back. When he came to the mercenary outpost, they assumed he was new. His short black hair? Any mercenary could look like him.

Gwynn's eyes shot a piercing stare at the mercenary who saluted with a dark smirk.

Unknown to Gwynn and the rookies, he had a title that could shake even the most hardened Crimson Blade.

* * *

Smoke and fire flared against the shore of Colhen. Burning wood crashed against the ground. They had nowhere to sail now.

An unlucky town filled with lousy excuses for ships and a flimsy palisade. Filled to the brim with straw and wood, it would all crash down too easily.

A foreign ship made its way down the shore, decorating its docked ships with oil and lit torches. Anyone who was caught near those ships was shot down with the blessing of gunpowder.

Before the ship had gotten close to the dock, it had rained a barrage of cannonballs with their 'acquired' mortars. Any more barrages and the natives would be too scared of the thunder to come out and fight.

A helmsman at the ship's wheel steered the ship towards a spot of open ground to dock the ship.

Behind the helmsman was a man dressed more luxuriously than any other sailor on the boat. And yet, he looked wearier than an overworked slave.

He was the former captain. Officially he still was, but now his newest passenger had become a favorite.

The sailors had thirsty eyes for the far entrance. Some brandished their cutlasses. Some primed their flintlock pistols. And all waited for a door in their ship to open.

With a flit of a telescope, he watched the remaining natives scramble away into their town. He had known its existence, along with the castle that towered over it. But it was the closest town he could promise. A town farther away would have him ejected from his very ship in a mutiny.

At this point, he was a shadow of what he was.

He used to be the one the crew looked up to; a wise man that could tell which town was worth sacking with a glance. They built up enough riches to keep themselves singing with ale for years. Gold had only mattered to them.

Ever since he picked up the new passenger from an affluent dock, the crew began to listen less and less to the captain and more to their newest crewmate. With her damned promises, the men became minions whom desired nothing more than a culling.

To the captain, a culling was nothing more than a waste of resources. There was no need to kill when there were bigger priorities.

He heard of a legend where certain women can lead anyone to their doom. When in fact, those women were succubi. Fomors. He had known their ability to seduce and kill.

But what his newest companion did was unheard of. His crew was still human, not mindless sheep who did what their master desired. And he never saw her more than a vixen. Whether she was a succubus or not, she successfully cut off any influence the captain held over his men and took hold.

Now he could only stand and watch his corrupted crew. The ship had struck ashore. The men vaulted into the shallow waters and ran with a psychotic fury that surpassed any Fomor towards the entrance.

* * *

"They're coming!" warned the sentry at the docks before he moved away.

Doors squeaked open from every building. A few metal helmets peeked out from where the horses were. Every Crimson Blade concealed themselves in every hiding spot in town.

Shren peered out of a corner behind the Inn. No sight of the invaders yet.

He squeezed his grip on a spear. The wooden texture felt familiar to him, even if he hadn't held a weapon in months.

Aodhan and Gwynn watched over the recovered mercenary from behind. For Aodhan, it was a chance to witness how the fabled Shren gained his track record. For Gwynn, it was the Crimson Blades' last chance.

The rookies also stood behind in the Inn. Gwynn had expressed their importance while he dictated his plan, so he placed them near Gwynn and Aodhan for their discretion.

Lann peered out, his swords eager for battle. Evie recovered her metal staff and whispered quietly to herself. Karok…found a broom and started sweeping the ground. Some mercenaries waiting at the general store stared at this bizarre sight.

Fiona was nowhere in sight. Gwynn labeled her as the most important one, but there wasn't enough time to hunt for her. Shren hoped that she herself found a hiding place.

There wasn't enough time to prepare as much as they could. When the call came out, only a couple of throwing weapons were only acquired. Luckily, one of those weapons happened to be a Light of Palala; a sphere that can turn the tides of battle if used right.

Still, it was only a simple plan. Plans didn't need to be so complicated, even if the invaders had a guaranteed kill with every gun. The Crimson Blades specialized in melee, and he planned to use that to his full advantage.

Simple plans can go wrong. Every plan can. While Shren dictated, he noticed a bunch of mercenaries giving glares and brandishing their swords. Some blades were always too prideful for their own good; even Gallagher knew when to listen compared to these impatient swords.

They have arrived.

Dressed in sewed hand-me-downs and leather, the invaders swarmed into the town with guns high and swords drawn. They looked like pirates, but they seemed to lack their swagger. Shren found that strange. Fortunately, they had no awareness of the waiting mercenaries.

The swarm soon halted as every invader looked around as if they were lost. Where was the slaughter waiting to happen? One of them shouted that they could be hiding, so they started aiming their guns at nearby doors. They treaded towards the doors, getting closer and closer.

Shren smiled. Everything had gone according to plan. He walked out of the corner and prepared to throw his spear. He took his aim at a dual pistoleer.

But before he activated the trap, a shout shook the air.

The inn's door flung open. A mercenary jumped out and stabbed a pirate in his momentum. Three more came out of the door to have their hand at bloodshed.

Mercenaries still inside the buildings became confused. They looked at each other and collectively wondered if they should also attack.

Lann looked ready to jump at any moment, but Karok calmed him down with his hand on Lann's shoulder.

The attack had begun much sooner than it should.

Shren dove back behind the inn with his spear before he was discovered. His eyebrows contorted in pure anger.

Those who couldn't follow the plan. Those were the rabble that Shren hated.

As soon as the mercenary pushed away the skull from his sword, gun barrels pointed at them.

They brought up their large shields and dropped down to their knees.

The famous Heavy Stander stance. A powerful defense said to nullify any attack.  
But this defense did not take guns into account. The flint of the guns had begun their descent.

Smoke filled the clearing in Colhen, as the guns fired at will.

Multiple shots had peppered the guarding Blades. The bullets smashed through their shields and riddled them with holes.

The pirates continued to shoot at them as they fell over. Maddened smiles and cackling echoed throughout the entire group. Almost every invader that had a gun had taken part in the one-sided massacre of the four.

Wisp-like streams of smoke filed out of the barrels; they had to be reloaded before they can be used again. Some had sat down and begun to load in gunpowder from their sacks. Voices rang out warning for more ambushes, so they decided to stay put until guns were reloaded.

For the pirates, they think they won with the example they made. Shren called this an opportunity.

He commended the dual pistoleer for not wasting bullets, before he threw his spear.

A shriek that rivaled the sirens of lore echoed through the air. Poor lady was the unluckiest of them all to be handpicked. Every invader turned to look at her drop knee first into the ground; even those reloading their weapons stopped.

As the woman clutched her new bloody shoulder decoration, a small sphere flung out of the horses area. Only a few noticed the ball rolling, and only one recognized what it was.

Before a warning could ever come, the sphere exploded.

A brilliant flash blinded every exposed eye.

The light show also came with a deafening echo, ringing every unlucky ear.

Some had even fallen over from the effects.

They were vulnerable.

Crimson Blades from all around leapt out. The sweep had begun. Those still reeling from the shock of the flash were finished.

Some pirates could fight back. Some dropped their guns and parlayed with the nearest mercenary.

Shren stood back and monitored the fight from behind the inn. In hindsight, the four mercenaries leaping out was a nice twist. Now the Crimson Blades had less to worry about.

Glancing around, he saw the rookies fighting as well. Unlike the other mercenaries, fighting seemed almost easy to them.

Lann had slipped under a diagonal slash and rose with two upward slashes.

Evie pushed away pirates with air and knocked them unconscious with a lightning-charged staff.

And Karok...loved twisting, squeezing, and 'clapping' heads. It was better not to look in his direction.

Shren noticed the woman he speared crawling towards the Docks. The Crimson Blades were too busy fighting to notice her escape. To Shren, letting someone get away would be a grave mistake.

He picked up a nearby cutlass. It felt heavier on his hand than a spear did, but he was never really fond of melee weapons.

Shren approached the woman, only to be interrupted by two wide horizontal slashes. He leaped backwards to dodge.

The new opponent stepped forward with bloodied cutlasses. He had killed a few Blades before.

With a step here and a twirl here, the pirate kept up a dance of spinning slashes.

The average Crimson Blade would fall in seconds to this experienced swashbuckler.

Shren kept moving back from the dance. Any thrust and slash he made would be pushed back far.

His back slammed against the inn wall. He dove to the side to avoid the onslaught of blades.

He rolled to a crouch as he turned to face his opponent. A bloodied cutlass swished straight towards Shren.

His feet leapt off the ground again to the side, but it was too late. The cutlass pierced through his shoulder.

Sharp pangs of pain swam through his side as Shren struggled to stand up. The pirate wasted no time as he sprinted and jumped towards Shren.

Shren managed to lift his cutlass enough to meet the overhead slash. But when the blades clashed, his hand gave out as the cutlass it held stabbed the ground. The pirate clearly had the upper hand.

With a kick to the center, Shren met the ground with his body convulsing upon the impact.

Gloating and a spinning blade were the only sounds Shren could register. The pirate loomed over from above.

The natives couldn't hold a blade close to his dance. The one that lay before him couldn't even fight back. Guilt was far away from this man as he spat on Shren's face. There would be nothing left for the new captain at this rate.

He twisted his body with the cutlass moving back. He intended to take it slow with this one. His eyes aimed for his thighs, then his arms, then his toe, he would stab everywhere until he fainted.

Shren didn't wait for an intervention. He did all he could to help defend Colhen.

But the torture didn't even start.

At the last moment, a mercenary rushed in.

That invader suffered a shield blow to the side. The force knocked him against a wooden wall.

Before he could recover, a sword pierced in and out of his throat in one clean motion. His rampage was now over.

Shren had watched his new savior easily take care of his former opponent. She had red hair flowing out of her helmet and wore a standard Crimson Blade tunic.

"_Just in time, Ceara._" Shren sighed in relief. He really lucked out, especially on his first day back.

She pulled him up to his feet before she jumped back into the fight. Only a few pirates remained, while the rest were slaughtered in one way or another. They fought much like the one who danced against Shren. They however did not have much hope against multiple mercenaries at the same time.

He was glad it turned out this way. There were only a few shots of gunfire in the whole fight.

Then Shren suddenly remembered. The woman who crawled for her life. Surely, she would have made it back to her ship by now. There was a distinct trail of blood, so that made it easier to follow.

His mind raced. There had to be a reason why Colhen had invaders in the first place.

This town did not offer much more than a pretty oracle and its alcohol. Human collaborators with Fomors seemed out of the question. And then there was Rocheste Castle practically having Colhen in its shadow.

But the longer he took to ponder, the bigger the possibility loomed for the ship to escape.

It was time for a counter-attack.

"Aodhan!" yelled Shren as he moved towards the center of town. He had to let him know that pursuing was important right now. He glanced around, looking for him.

He winced from his wound as he stepped over the fresh corpses and equipment. He would have to get it bandaged and treated when everything was done.

After finishing off the last pirate, the mercenaries had transitioned to more peaceful duties.

The Crimson Blades that have fallen, including the foolish ones, have already been covered with a cloth. Some Blades have gotten to scavenging, tearing the armor and searching the pockets of their dead enemies.

Shren leered at a few Crimson Blade mercenaries sitting back by the Forge. Their wounds flashed away in red and white as they slurped their red potions. One of them was Lann, who had five empty potions by his side.

He approached a weary Aodhan who stood beside an observant Gwynn, who looked like she was evaluating the current situation. A streak of blood stained her breastplate; she too fought in the ambush.

"Shren. Good to see you're still alive," breathed Aodhan, whose words have prompted Gwynn to focus her eyes upon Shren. They both eyed the cutlass on his shoulder.

Despite the pain, Shren saluted back. "Captain. I hate to say this while we are still recovering. But we must pursue them back to their ship. We need to find out why they would raid a town that's so close to Rocheste."

Aodhan took a few breaths before answering, "So be it. I will accompany you soon."

"No, Captain Aodhan." Gwynn interjected as she stepped towards Shren. "I will accompany you instead."

"Commander Gwynn. We can still handle this. You don't need to intervene for our sakes," replied Shren. He saw Gwynn's eyes lit up. He was probably one of the few who acknowledged Gwynn, _fairly_, compared to the rest of the mercenaries.

"No. I am convinced after seeing this unfold," said Gwynn as Aodhan looked up at her. "The Crimson Blades are sufficient enough. I see no reason to replace them anymore. Perhaps cooperation will be better?"

Aodhan looked at Gwynn and chuckled. "I told you not to underestimate us. You can go."

Aodhan sat down and continued to breath. He was always known to be a hard fighter; no doubt he would be so tired after a surprise scuffle like this.

"Shren, take the rookies with you. With your shoulder like that, you could use some backup," mentioned Aodhan.

"Understood," said Shren before glancing around. Karok had heard the conversation and made eye contact with Shren before walking over.

Shren still felt uneasy around Karok, especially after seeing him twist off a head so easily. Thankfully, he was on their side.

"Lann! Evie!" yelled Shren. "Aodhan ordered us to go to the docks. Let's go!"

Even though Shren had actually suggested the idea, he knew it would be easier if it seemed like an order from the higher-ups.

Evie sprang right up to him, but she turned her head away as soon as Shren turned his wounded body towards her.

Lann chugged a few more potions as he walked over to Shren. Ten empty potions were littered from where Lann sat at. He didn't even show an interest in Shren's injury as he stared at the docks.

"Will you be okay with that in your shoulder? I can easily take it out" offered Karok.

"It's fine. If I leave it in, it won't bleed as much. There's no time for a bandage right now" replied Shren.

"How about drinking a potion?" asked Karok.

This question was a gut-punch to Shren. He didn't want to waste time explaining.

"Anyways," said Shren. "I believe we're forgetting another person. Oh Ceara, she'll do."

Shren walked towards the red-haired mercenary standing at the dock entrance. She was still in a battle stance, as if the next pirate was about to come out.

Lann followed after him while Gwynn, Evie, and Karok looked at each other. It was very clear that Shren tiptoed around the question that Karok asked. Gwynn and Evie in particular were interested in knowing why he didn't partake in something that would heal his injury in an instant.

The three caught up with Shren after a bit at the dock entrance. They were ready to go, but Gwynn was still annoyed by the cutlass in Shren's shoulder.

"Karok, please take that cutlass out," asked Gwynn.

"Commander Gwynn. I said not to-" Shren yelped when Karok took out the cutlass with his two fingers. He tried to hold his wound together, seeing blood gush out.

Gwynn nodded to Evie, who opened her palm. A white wisp with a blue aura appeared and danced in her fingers.

'Pushing' the wisp towards Shren's wound, it swam through the air.

"No!" Shren felt immediate danger from seeing the wisp. He wanted to avoid that constant cycle of pain ever since that experiment. He tried to shirk his shoulder away from it, but it was too fast for him.

The wisp enveloped his entire wound, while a blue light began to cover Shren's entire body.

"_Here it comes. I hope Gwynn knows….oh,_" Shren had expected to succumb immediately. HP Potions, as explained to him, was a derivative of healing magic. If it was a derivative, healing magic should be a punishment from the God of Fomors to him. And yet, Evie's magic had done its job.

Gwynn, Karok, Evie, and even the red-haired mercenary eyed his shocked reaction. Shren knew that he was going to have a lot of questions pointed his way. It was fine. He had some questions of his own anyways.

"Thank you Evie. But why am I blue?" asked Shren, surrounded by his new blue aura.

"That's…uhh..." Evie stammered; she didn't seem to remember what it was exactly.

"A magician's way of healing," said Gwynn. "We're hurrying, yes?"

Shren nodded before saying, "I'll ask later then."

Evie sighed in relief and smiled back. Now that problem was taken care of, but there was one more precaution Shren wanted to take.

"Karok. Do you see that corpse?" asked Shren as he pointed to the one closest to the entrance.

"I do," replied Karok.

"Bring it with you and use it as a shield. They may still have guns," said Shren.

Gwynn gave an incredulous look at Shren. His plan for eliminating the invaders had been the main reason why she started approving the Crimson Blades. Yet, suggesting using a human shield in a heartbeat?

"Alright. Karok, you lead. Let's see if their ship is still there."

* * *

No one returned to the boat. The only crewmate who escaped the town was resting against a rock with a spear in her shoulder.

The captain of the invading ship felt his end approaching as he dropped his telescope. With no one else willing to serve him, he was just a poor man in a rich man's clothing.

He had known it was a bad idea. Every part of him wanted to avoid attacking this town.

He slumped down, sitting against one of the masts. He faced that same door everyone else looked at before they went to their doom.

But he believed it was not his fault.

He regretted taking that certain passenger onto his crew. Everything had gone worse and worse since then.

The crew thought they had everything with all the gold they pillaged. They could have anything they wanted. Their itches were even easily handled whenever they anchored at a dock.

Then she joined the crew. She didn't care about gold, carrying around an air of exclusivity that made the crew slowly desire her. The passenger made empty promises to every member, even to the other woman, the captain's personal mistress.

Throughout all of her promises she made, one thing was common. She wanted excitement in return. Though the crew was at first complacent in their wealth, they then started getting a different kind of itch.

They too began to want excitement. They were willing to give up their lives, their hard work, for a few moments of glory.

They soon approached the Captain as they went from friendly and hypothetical questions to threats and demands. He had bore witness to his crew becoming animals.

And by now, he had become a servant to satiate their desires.

The door in front of the captain opened. That passenger had slept in his quarters last night, requesting the best rest possible 'to win for the handsome captain leading the way to victory.' By leading the way, the captain had stayed up all night steering the boat.

The passenger came out adorned with dazzling armor akin to a white shark. The captain had only seen that armor once when she was just entering the crew. The bottom cleavage she showed prominently had been the start of the corruption of his crew.

"Thank you for sharing your bed with me," said the passenger coyly.

"Better than a mutiny."

"Oh don't say such a sad thing. I bet you always keep women in mind like me when you're dressed like that."

He hated how she danced around in her language. He spat out to the side.

"You led my crew down to hell."

"Ohh, is that so?" She didn't seem to care whether they lived or not.

She sashayed towards the captain. She giggled when the captain averted his eyes.

She bent down in front of him, waiting for the captain to look back.

"My my, you're quite the grumpy one today. I can make you feel all better" toyed the woman.

She continued to wait, and when the captain did give in, she slowly licked her top lip and winked at him.

"You have to be a succubus," asked the Captain, remembering the legend. "My men had been loyal to me before you came on."

"You can call me whatever you like, _captain_," she replied, with a mocking emphasis.

She took the telescope beside him and rose up her upper body, toying with the captain again when her breasts briefly brushed against his face.

The captain could only sigh as the woman saw through the telescope towards the town.

"Looks like some people are coming to welcome me," the passenger tossed away the telescope into the water, making the captain grimace. He couldn't wait for her to go away.

"What makes you think _you_ will last against them?" asked the captain.

"I always last, my captain," replied the passenger. "Whether if it's just a fight or like when I stole your crew away from someone as weak as you."

It was a slap in the face to the resigned person. In the end, he was perhaps, one of the many people the passenger had ruined.

"You bitch," cursed the captain.

She smiled at the captain before she faced the entrance again. Her twin swords at her side gleamed with the sunset.

"Praise me."


	3. Chapter 3 - Squall

"Are you okay?"

Shren talked to the woman who sat against a rock. Her responses incoherent and breathy as she clutched the area where the spear stabbed her.

Gwynn glared down at that woman, and then towards Shren.

An abnormal person who shook down the invasion yet did not bat an eyelid to a human shield.

Where did this mercenary come from?

Perhaps…he had been that mysterious person Tieve visited every day in that room.

Whenever Gwynn returned to the Inn, she would always spot Tieve delivering medicinal soups or letters. Any healthy tenant at the Inn either checked the mailbox or ate in the common dining room.

Up the flight of stairs from the dining room. Walk down a hallway laden with common sleeping quarters. Another flight of stairs. Another hallway of bedrooms. And then a staircase to a locked door that Tieve would always disappear behind. Only to reappear again with clean bowls.

Mercenary tenants would don their detective glasses and try to debunk the man behind the door. Nothing more than harmless rumors.

But all those rumors were aware of one fact courtesy of the local oracle. Only Tieve could grace that person.

Shren was no VIP. But his presence was enough to turn some of the local warriors into superstitious monkeys. His existence garnered constant medical attention and the trust of Aodhan. An influential man, one way or another, Gwynn was interested.

While Gwynn seemed to contemplate how to scrutinize Shren, he and the rookies worked together to heal the spear wound the woman had suffered.

Shren held her down against the ground. Karok dragged out the spear with one hand. And Evie turned her blue with the same healing magic used on Shren.

The woman had stared at Shren during her impromptu surgery. Her eyes betraying her glimpse of the man who struck her down. She felt around her inexistent wound with no waves of pain.

"Can you speak?" asked Shren.

The woman stared in silence for a moment, before replying, "…yes."

"That's good." Shren smiled at her, making the woman cringe.

"What are you going to do to me?" The woman's eyes took note of everyone staring at her. Even the corpse that Karok carried seemed to throw a sideway glance at her.

"I just need to ask you a few questions…later," replied Shren.

He could feel it. He could feel the gaze that observed their every move. He looked up to the woman atop the foreign ship. She was one of them.

She smiled back.

* * *

She seemed impressed. So impressed she had to dive into the waters and rise out with a smirk on her face. The group seemed like fun, why not test how much fun they could be?

She sashayed down the coast, her wild and straight hair bouncing with her hips. Combined with her parted lips, she didn't seem to have any lick of dread.

Her fellow crewmate within the group stared, and whispered "Mistress."

Shren appraised her up and down. She carried none of the bloodthirstiness her comrades showed. Yet, Shren felt more threatened by her than the entire invasion force. Her poise screamed complete confidence in her actions.

The mercenaries braced themselves as the 'Mistress' drew her swords from her side. Gwynn scoffed at the strange underhand grip she had in one hand.

She stopped about three meters away from the group.

Her eyes scanned the two glowing people in front of her. With one look at her healed crewmate, she motioned for her with a flick of her finger.

She complied as she ran towards her. However, the other glowing person caught her arm from behind and pulled her away.

The woman struggled as she was pulled away, yelling, "Let go of me!"

The mistress pouted, showing her 'displeasure.'

"You won't let her go peacefully?" asked the mistress with sophistication so lovely one couldn't easily stand it.

"We have plans for her. If you want her back, I'll tell you your options," replied Shren.

Gwynn felt uncomfortable letting the mercenary dictate the rules. Shren wanted answers and so did she. But why engage in talking with this pirate?

"My options?" The mistress pointed at herself before giggling. "Finally, someone who knows how to treat a real woman!"

"Did I make you recall something? I apologize if that is the case."

"A gentleman too! Please tell me your wishes."

"As you wish, mistress…hmm?"

"Mistress? My, my. You can even pick up hints too," Vella clapped nice and slow. "How astute. You'll make a good man for me."  
"It's only fair."

Their words set to sting. This was more of a playful banter than an actual negotiation. Gwynn's eyes pointed daggers at the two.

"A fair man you are. Very well. You may call me Mistress Vella."

"Thank you, Mistress Vella. Did you sail all the way here with your friends?"

"Friends?" Vella took this chance to look at the one Shren held back. "They've only entertained me for so long. That one only annoyed me."  
The woman gasped, before her knees buckled to the ground. Her head hanged low as Shren stepped in front of her.

"Harsh words."

"I'm always honest. Your friends seem more fun anyways." Vella glanced at Karok, along with the body he held up. "Oh. He was fun. Wasn't more annoying than that one anyways. Also…"

The group remained stone-faced while Vella commented on her former crewmates as if their lives were inferior. Every comment about her crewmates also seemed to degrade the woman more and more.

Gwynn's veins popped out. Blood spilled out from Karok's finger grip in the body. While they struggled to stay on their best behavior, Shren had figured out that Vella cared more about curing her boredom than saving the woman. Vella…was an interesting candidate to Shren.

"But enough about my crew. Your options?" asked Vella after finishing.  
"I apologize for getting you backtracked," said Shren. "Leave. Right now. Without her. Or-"

"Leave?" Vella interrupted. "I have no such interest."

Shren cocked an eyebrow, before saying "Then-"

"After all," Vella continued. "If a _man_ like you could make me choose…"

Her eyes scanned Shren again, accompanied with a mocking head tilt and narrowed eyes. Her tongue slithered across her lips. Every bit of toying she did now seemed more like a challenge.

"Then why don't I just-"  
Her posture bent forward. Edges as sharp as a shark's teeth faced Shren.

A fast woman. Even faster than the one Shren faced.

She dashed and slashed towards Shren's legs.

Before Shren could even react, the helmeted sword and shield mercenary parried it away with an upward slash.

Vella leapt backwards. Everyone else readied their weapons again while Karok dropped the corpse he carried.

"Thank you, Ceara" said Shren. He hoisted the disgraced woman to his shoulder and retreated to the back of the group.

"I guess you're not a _man_ after all," taunted Vella.

"I don't have a weapon," shrugged Shren.

"A sad excuse. But this one will do," said Vella as she eyed her new opponent.

Vella tested her, pretending to slash before dancing away multiple times. Yet, the mercenary did not move as if she already seen through her motive.

Vella pouted at her. After another feint, she followed up with a pirouette of diagonally upward slashes towards the body.

Amidst her dance, the mercenary stepped forward. Her shield stopping the blade dance.

As soon as she felt her sword strike the wood, Vella leaped back from the retaliation. The mercenary swished her sword towards Vella, striking the air.

Vella watched as her opponent's sword approached closer and closer. Her feet stood on their toes ready to leap backwards, yet her opponent continued to miss her. It was enough of a sorry sight for Vella to laugh.

Vella twirled her swords left and right, waiting for a blade to come her way.

But instead of the blade, it was the boot.

A back kick to the chest flew Vella to the ground.

While Vella got back on her feet, Lann ran past the guarding mercenary.

Another new opponent, but with twin swords like her. The two exchanged a series of sword slashes. A waltz of blades with clangs and swishes.

Metal grazed skin. But never deeper than that. Not a single blow that could turn the tables for either side.

However, Vella kept leaping backwards while Lann slipped forward. If she kept losing ground, she would hit a wooden palisade behind her. And Lann wasn't close to being out of breath. As if his Battle Respiration was a rank negative 6.

When they reached the palisade, Lann thrust out his swords' hilts after a half-spin, intending to body check Vella into the wall.

Lann smashed against the wall instead. Vella ran up the wall and flipped backwards.

Landing behind Lann, Vella kicked Lann against the wall. The impact knocked the swords out of his hands as he hugged the wall.

Just as she raised her underhand sword to stab down into Lann, she looked behind with one eye to check for any more assailants.

It came as fast as a thrown spear.

A lightning bolt hurtled towards Vella. Evie already began focusing her mind for another spell.

If that hit a human, it could tucker out the body for a long time.

The lightning bolt had hit its mark. But it was discriminate.

While Vella side-flipped, Lann's body had convulsed against the wall before he fell on his back. Evie snapped out of focus in horror when she saw her act of friendly fire.

A normal human wouldn't be able to react that fast. Shren seemed pleased.

By now, she had faced three mercenaries. Two of them weren't even finished off.

This was a true wake up call for her. Although she was far from boredom, he didn't look happy having her 'supremacy' crushed either.

Vella glared at Evie. As if she dared to incite the mistress. With one look at Vella challenging her, Evie focused down on her staff for another spell.

As blue magical energies surged around Evie, Vella sprinted.

Evie smacked her staff against the ground in frustration. She didn't have time for another incantation. It wasn't easy to focus when a enemy was closing the gap fast.

Not willing to give Vella another chance to kill, the red-haired mercenary hustled to get in front of Evie. She dropped down to a heavy stander, ready to block any incoming attack while Evie prepared her spell.

Evie sighed in relief before returning to deep concentration.

Fire swirled around her fingers, which meant it was almost ready. Not a problem for Vella.

Vella lowered herself while spinning a dance of wide slashes.

But before the sword parlayed with the shield. Before the fire spell had been released. She soared into the air.

At the apex of the leap, Vella twisted her swords to fall like a guillotine. The mercenary struck her shield high above her head, but she couldn't go back any more.

If Vella came down now, Evie would be split in half.

However, Vella didn't aim for her. She flew past the two.

She had a new target. A person who didn't try to fight back. A person who failed her expectations. She didn't appreciate that he ran away from her at the start. So she personally came to teach him what it meant to parley with the Mistress of the Seas.

Vella smirked as Shren watched her. Her descent grew faster. The other mercenaries wouldn't be able to catch up.

Even if her swords missed their mark, she could always spin on the ground and take him down.

Her vision stayed focused on Shren as everywhere else blurred.

She fell, and then stopped.

Gravity was no longer on her side. Shren smirked back at her as she hung in mid-air. He could see how desperate Vella had gone.

A giant hand had swung and grabbed her leg during her descent.

With a firm grasp, Karok slammed Vella into the ground. The impact shattered her armor to pieces and her swords dropped.

Shren walked up to her, picked up her swords, and threw them to the sea. Her identity as one of the pirates was no more.

* * *

That blow left her unconscious. Karok blew on his hand as the mercenaries besides Lann surrounded her.

After confirmation of her unconsciousness, Gwynn said, "I will take her into custody for more questioning."

"I'm afraid that won't do," said Shren, who crouched beside Vella.

"And why do you say that, mercenary?" asked Gwynn, punctuating the last word.

"I like her. I think she'll be a wonderful Blade."

"A blade? The woman thinks herself higher than us while flopping her shanks around," sighed Gwynn. It must be a joke.

"Everyone has their problems. But everyone also have their talents," said Shren.

"She was talented in playing with your heart," said Gwynn coldly.

"She has already stolen my heart. There's potential in this one."

Gwynn almost smiled, but Shren's expression didn't change. Gwynn scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion. Something was amiss.

"Wait." Said Gwynn as she observed Shren, who continued to appraise Vella. That wasn't sarcasm. He was being serious!

"Are you really…her?!" Gwynn was flabbergasted. "Shren. I must admit you are a creative one. Well, unorthodox at best. But…"

"She is a good candidate for the Crimson Blades. I'm surprised you couldn't see that, Commander Gwynn," said Shren.

"_Oh no,_" thought Shren. A poor choice of words.

Gwynn glared at him hard. She stepped into his personal space with her body screaming "You dare belittle me?!"

"And I suppose your eccentric ways can raise someone competent?" If Vella's words were set to sting, Gwynn were now set to brutalize.

Evie stared wide-eyed at the whole situation. Shren may be famous among the Crimson Blades but he was making a mistake disregarding the scariest woman in town.

"I don't think this harlot can even comprehend discipline," said Gwynn.

"Commander Gwynn," said Shren.

"But if you intend to please yourself with this woman-"

"Commander Gwynn."

"-Who already called you a coward-"

"Commander Gwynn."

"I'll be ready to clean up your mess with my garrison when the Blades have fallen to recruiting petty highwaymen," Gwynn stomped back into town.

Shren sighed. Sooner or later, he would have to explain to Aodhan after Gwynn finished her tirade. Even if he had his way, the Royal Army woman wouldn't be so friendly to him in his advantage. Especially after losing out to a man who just came back.

And if she did end up being a problem, he would be restricted. Shren didn't like the possibility of being constrained into certain engagements.

He had to showcase her skill…or at least her usefulness. But he still felt doubt even after defending Vella. The healed woman should be enough for his original purpose. Vella wasn't someone he thought through.

He wanted to make sure.

"So," Shren spoke out loud. "Do you think me as foolish as well?"

Shren intended it to be a rhetorical question, but he still stood as if he expected an answer.

Karok stared towards the sky, not opting to answer. Evie pretended to busy herself by inspecting Vella's body.

When the two seemed nonresponsive, Shren turned towards the one he could trust to give her own opinion. Ceara had always been observant, she could tell whenever someone was off their game. He waited for her to respond, waiting to see if his 'eye' did rust over the months of recovery.

"I do not."

"I see…wait."

That was not Ceara's voice. The voice that had spoken was more tamed and mature than Ceara's encouraging and playful voice.

There was only one thing Shren wanted to do to confirm.

"Take off your helmet."

After she swept the docks with her eyes for any more signs of danger, she obliged.

Indeed, she was not Ceara. She just had the same hair color as her. But to Shren, her identity was clear. There was no other mercenary who could be so skilled with a sword and shield.

He had found the last rookie.

"Fiona."

Her head bowed in return.

* * *

Vella had been put to rest in the Inn. The biggest building in town that was somehow clean of cannonballs.

She rested in Shren's old room. A single bedroom with the ceiling sloped down and a single window overlooking the center of town. An attic room normally reserved for the sick.

She had been unconscious for hours now. If she wasn't carried into the Inn, she would have been considered dead and burned alive. It was a rare case that committed Evie to heal her with more than one healing wisp.

Moonlight broke into the room as everyone including the mercenaries rested after a long day. Several small candles also lit the partially dim room.

Shren, with his blue aura gone, sat by the bed on a chair watching Vella sleep. To be facing a bed he slept in for months, it was almost nostalgic. He had done a lot of thinking in that bed.

A hearty vegetable soup sat on an end table beside Shren. A welcome gift made by Tieve. It was still piping hot, as its aroma had spread around the room.

"Even in bed, you still look pretty damn cocky," said Shren, looking at her lips stretching as if she was kissing someone.

"Alright. No more waiting. Time for the tricky part."

Shren stretched out his arm and flicked Vella in the cheek.

Her eyes creaked open. Her nose sniffing for more of the pleasant aroma from the soup.

She slowly rose up in her bed, wearing a form of light clothing. Her broken armor had left her almost naked. Thankfully, Tieve had a leftover outfit.

"Good evening, Vella," greeted Shren, stirring the soup with its spoon.

Vella didn't seem to register his words at first. She stared forward blankly for a while before she placed her gaze on Shren.

"I am alive," stated Vella. Shren nodded in return.

"You are too kind, maybe I will reward you one day," Vella had returned to that tone, however the words were more teasing than outright stinging.

"Yep," replied Shren as he took out a spoonful of soup. "Open."

Vella nudged closer to the soup and happily obliged as she let Shren feed her parched mouth.

Only after a minute of admiring the taste and being fed, she slapped Shren's hand out of the spoon and fed herself. A little red remained on her cheeks.

"Mistress Vella does not like being fed?" joked Shren.

"You are not worthy enough to feed me, Sir…"

"Shren. You can just call me Shren."

"Shren. A beautiful name ruined on a coward."

"I had to protect a rare beauty after all," shrugged Shren.

"You think that woman can match me?"

Shren laughed at the sudden accusation. Vella narrowed her eyes at him as he turned away and faced the window.

"Hmph, praise me," scoffed Vella.

A minute of slurping noises passed before Shren posed a question. "Anyways Vella, would you like another choice?"

Those words exasperated Vella. "You want a piece of me, boy? I can easily cut you do-"  
"Pass a test or live in the Rocheste dungeons," interrupted Shren.

Those new choices immediately made Vella contemplate in silence. Shren waited for her reply. This couldn't be a hard decision for someone of her type.

That was a compromise he managed to reach with Gwynn after arguing his point. He had come up with the test when a report came in from Perilous Ruins. The ship that carried the report was the only Colhen ship left.

"What makes you think I can't have my way with a mere prison guard?" asked Vella. To Shren, this seemed like an obvious bluff.

"That would be too easy, wouldn't it? The test is less boring."

At the expense of the verbally abused woman, Shren had determined that Vella had a low tolerance for boredom. Her preemptive verbal strike was proof of that.

A period of silence remained between the two. Vella contemplated again, before she broke the silence, "the test?"

"How do you feel about Gnolls?" asked Shren.

"A bunch of walking wolves? I don't see how this is a test."

"Well their chieftain is going on another rampage in the Perilous Ruins. Take care of it and you pass. I will be watching."

"The biggest wolf out of them all. Should be easy."

"Then you choose the test?" asked Shren, turning back to face Vella.

"What do I get out of it?" asked Vella.

"You will find out when the Chieftain is dead."

Vella made a long sigh as she leaned against her bedframe. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Surprises are more exciting after all, don't you agree?" asked Shren.

"I do. I just wonder how long you can keep me entertained."

"Oh I assure you. You'll be pleased for a long time."

"Quite a tall bet from a coward. I can't wait for my reward then, Shren~," Vella dragged out his name.

"Excellent. Finish your soup and get some rest. We leave tomorrow morning."

"One more thing," said Vella. "Where are my armor and swords?"

"Ahh," replied Shren. "I apologize. Our giant accidentally destroyed them when you were being pummeled. You'll be given new gear."

"I see…" Vella didn't seem to have fond memories of Karok. "You may leave me."

Shren nodded before he closed the door and went down the stairs.

"Be ready, _Captain_ Shren."

A malicious smile crept up on her lips as she slurped her soup.

* * *

Shren walked out to the docks and sat against a log that faced a dead campfire. Unlike everyone else in town, he did not feel sleepy in the slightest.

He had come there to wait for someone. He did not know when that person would come, but he had time to think.

After Shren gave Fiona her letter and asked her to bring Vella to the inn, he investigated the invading ship with Evie and Karok. He also asked the woman they saved to guide them.

A gunshot echoed when the four approached the ship. Huddling behind Karok and a human shield, they climbed aboard the ship.

When they came upon the deck, they saw a man lying against one of the masts. A gun was on his lap, where fresh blood rained from the mouth.

Shren noted that his appearance had been as sharp as Vella. Perhaps, he had been the former captain of the invaders, wanting to join the rest of his fallen crewmates.

It created a somber atmosphere for the rest of the investigation. Ever since her eyes had fell upon the captain, she led the three around the ship with an almost permanent melancholy expression. Evie had wanted to cheer her up, but Shren cut her off.

He preferred for her to continue mourning amidst her nostalgia, so that she would be too occupied to even think about turning on the three. Even with the giant.

During their tour, Shren had picked up the diary of the captain in his quarters. He read through it as they moved around the ship.

With the captain's recent entries, Vella essentially commandeered the entire ship with her unique charisma. Her influence was even present in the diary where the entries began to showcase Vella more and more, accompanied with insults and succubus accusations marred with bold ink.

She had caused the invasion through a mere mix of culture. She preferred battle and excitement while the captain encouraged safety and insurance. It didn't take long for the crewmates to find out which one would lead to more possible happiness.

Shren had grown more wary of Vella since the investigation. He could imagine some mercenaries swooning over her, especially Gallagher. He had to find a way to make sure her corruption did not spread in town.

Lest Gwynn's omen may come true.

The Rocheste reinforcements never did come to the rescue. Aodhan was quick in sending out a courier. But Shren did not want the Royal Army breathing down on his neck. That would put him closer to the Pontiff's Court scrutiny. An unfavorable situation for his future plans. Plans that would label him as a metaphorical witch.

So first, he had to gain a degree of flexibility.

Vella was only the catalyst.

"Ahh there you are. Come sit with me," said Shren, patting the spot beside him. The woman who led them around the boat approached from behind. He chastised himself in his head for only noticing her on such a chance glance.

Shren had allowed her to rest in the Inn after the investigation; on the condition she would meet him in the Docks at night. She didn't say thanks or curtsy in response, but according to Evie, she smiled a little at the Inn.

The woman plopped down next to him as requested, but her melancholy expression from the investigation still remained.

"I want to thank you first for assisting the Crimson Blades. Your name?" asked Shren.

"Leithia," replied the woman.

"Leithia. Thank you for your help…" said Shren. He had read about this woman. The captain had been proficient at detailing her corruption. Mistresses had gone wild these days.

"Anything you wish?" asked, or rather, recited Leithia. Shren had half-expected her to strip down and give him a show right after. Even with such a sad look on her face.

Nevertheless, he was here on business. Whether it was Vella's brainwashing or gratitude for getting the spear out, he didn't care.

"Good. I hope you are ready to answer questions. In return, Vella wished for me to tell you something," said Shren. While her request was actually an off-hand comment, Leithia seemed gullible enough. Her face lit up. Her eyes seemed to salivate for more. If only he could show Gwynn how useful Vella was already turning out to be.

"Your questions?" asked Leithia.

When Shren was flitting through the diary, he came across a very old entry that even preceded the entry of Vella. The entries had dated back before his pirate days when it was just the Captain and Leithia. It was one of the few entries Shren analyzed down to the smallest detail. The setting hooked him in.

The setting was a town Shren was intimately familiar with. A desolate town torn apart by fires and Fomors. The entry had taken place during its last bustling days.

Leithia and her Captain were out together. They walked around, enjoying the town and its attractions while their ship docked at its port. No citizen in town had suspected them to be pirates, but the couple stood out in grand clothing.

While shopkeepers tried to draw in the couple with fine tailoring and fake jewelry, a magician's shop at the end of a street caught their eye. Leithia had never seen magic at work so her curiosity drew the two in.

When they entered, the magician in charge did not hesitate in showing off his wares, eager to sell in a decrepit-looking store. When the captain asked for a demonstration of magic in exchange for gold, the magician grinned.

He ushered them into a backroom full of caged animals. Rodents, birds, fowls, rabbits, it was almost a miniature zoo. A small table sat in the middle of the room with a chest underneath. Dry blood etched into the middle of the table with stacks of paper on the side.

Leithia became uncomfortable as the magician brought a duck from one of the cages. He told the couple to stand back before he drew out a key item and a small knife from the chest.

What happened next was a mess of unreadable, blurry ink. But the next readable words were '…alive again!'

The rest of the entry detailed the bargaining for the item by the Captain. The magician immediately refused, stating he was still researching it.

There was no doubt that the magician had probably finished his research by now. And Shren was willing to hunt that down. If it lined up with his theory based on context, the 'item' could again change the course of warfare much like the invention of the common HP Potion did.

Or perhaps…

The use of the key item in military situations could surpass the HP Potion.

It felt like cheating to Shren if he used it. But he didn't mind increasing his margin of error with people.

If correct, his theory may allow him entry to the off-limits town. Another objective accomplished in his plan!

But he couldn't take that leap if Gwynn stepped on his shoes. She would have to be taken care of in the near future.

So with a smaller step, he needed to confirm his theory with an eyewitness.

"Leithia?" said Shren.

"Yes?" Leithia replied.

"Tell me about your experience with the Phoenix Feather."


End file.
